


The Unbearable Lightness of Being (A Butt Doughnut)

by SBG



Series: Butts and Hands [4]
Category: Hawaii Five-0 (2010)
Genre: Crack, Danny's ass, Humor, M/M, Other, Steve's Hands, Timestamp, what is this I don't even
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-02-12
Updated: 2012-02-12
Packaged: 2017-10-30 23:50:23
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,449
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/337578
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SBG/pseuds/SBG
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Not everyone is taken with Danny's ass.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Unbearable Lightness of Being (A Butt Doughnut)

**Author's Note:**

> Not. My. Fault. Truly. I wanted to write a tag for 2.15, but then _someone_ sparked this instead. Her name is [Nialla](http://archiveofourown.org/users/Nialla/pseuds/Nialla). Oh, yes, I outed you. Also, [LdyAnne](http://archiveofourown.org/users/LdyAnne) did nothing to dissuade me when she had the chance. ;)

H50H50H50

His grand introduction to life outside the bag was having his brains practically blown out by what he thought, inexperienced though he was, had to be the world’s most perfect mouth. 

Perhaps it was a post-blow high, but he thought the rest of the man beyond the sensuous lips was magnificent as well. The gorgeous eyes and long, long lashes. The chiseled, if perhaps slightly too sharp, cheekbones. The charming smile. The muscular arms. The tattoos on those muscular arms. Most of all, the hands as he was caressed and cradled. Oh my! He was barely out of the cellophane wrapper and he knew he was very lucky indeed.

He was resplendent in bright pink and pineapple, and Tall, Dark and Gorgeous looked at him like he was the best thing since sliced bread. He almost prematurely deflated when his nozzle was pushed in by those strong, capable fingers. It felt soooo good. He was excited as they left the dark little store for the bright sunshine, his first look at the world that was now officially his own. He approved of the salt air and rainbowed sky and good-natured hellos multiple people tossed at his new mate and, by extension, him. 

The loss of contact when he was placed on an upholstered vehicle seat was difficult to accept, and he hoped the ride wouldn’t be too long. It took him several moments to wonder why he was in the passenger seat instead of cushioning that fabulous backside he’d sneaked a peek at on the way to the truck. A swirl of cool unease cut through him. He ignored it, instead gazed in adoration of his handsome companion. His spirits buoyed when they stopped at what looked like a large palace. 

Tall, Dark and Gorgeous gently picked him up and swept him through the driver’s side door. It was encouraging how good-spirited his mate was; it was the promise of good times to come. His mood began to falter again when Tall, Dark and Gorgeous brought him into an empty office. There he saw a hideous corpse of a distant cousin, a hospital standard coccyx cushion to his Tushie Cushie™ tossed carelessly in a garbage bin. Poor bastard had been branded with some sort of lewd expression, and he hoped it was post mortem. The garbage bin, he noted, was also filled with a greasy pile of napkins and a half eaten doughnut. The horror. He did not like this one bit, nor did he like being left on a chair that was apparently not Tall, Dark and Gorgeous’s, which he deduced because he doubted doughnuts ever passed those incredible lips and also because Tall, Dark and Gorgeous didn’t immediately sit on his face the way he’d hoped for since the second he laid eyes on that Adonis. 

He languished, cold and alone and with a bird’s eye view of the tragically dead cushion, for what seemed like forever. He heard approaching footsteps, finally, but they were much too close together to come from his long-legged hottie human. A second later, a scruffy, tiny little man with blond hair coiffed in an odd and kind of embarrassing style glared down at him. He supposed the man was handsome in a rugged way, but he was no Tall, Dark and Gorgeous. The scowl aimed directly at him twisted his face all up in an unpleasant expression. 

“What the fucking hell is this piece of shit?” the man muttered, eyes widening. “This is so very, very wrong.”

It was hate at first sight. 

He was picked up roughly by stubby fingers, held uncomfortably tight while the troll man stomped with him out of the office. He saw Tall, Dark and Gorgeous up ahead through large windows, and if he’d had a heart, it would have started beating in visceral reaction to such beauty. He was waved around more wildly the closer they got, until Troll Man stood in front of Tall, Dark and Gorgeous. 

“Really, Steven? Pineapples. You got me a fucking butt doughnut covered in pineapples. It’s ... it's _pink_.”

Tall, Dark and Steven, mmmm yes, that worked. Steven’s smile was a ray of sunshine and instantly, he hated the blond little man even more because that smile was aimed that way, of all improbable and wrong things. His opinion of Steven tarnished slightly, but it was not beyond repair. Such good looks made it difficult to hold a grudge, and there was still time for Steven to set things to rights. Also, for the record, pineapple was a lovely fruit and it looked _good_ on him, so Troll Man could stuff it up the rear end he himself was supposed to help pillow. He didn’t bother checking it out, though he surely could, what with all the flailing. He was certain this monstrous man (who’d apparently murdered his predecessor and hadn’t bothered with a proper burial) had just as monstrous a backside.

“I thought you needed a new one, Danny,” Steve said, blinking. Those eyelashes should be outlawed. “You made a big production of it.”

Danny. Fitting that such a creature would have an infantile name. 

“You asshole, you just gotta make me miserable,” Danny said, but there was no heat behind the words.

Or, rather, there was, but it wasn’t that kind of heat. It wasn’t in the voice, more of a smoldering expression … and there, Steven was retur… Oh. Oh, damn it anyway.

H50H50H50

“You named the other one,” Steven said. “I don’t see why you won’t extend the same courtesy here.”

“I can’t believe I have to remind you of this, you animal, but you hated François, remember?” Danny said in a voice disproportionately loud and aggressive for such a simple request. “You were so jealous of the damned thing, you lost the ability to think like a rational human being.”

He watched the two of them argue like they were on that daytime court show with the nasty and wonderful lady judge. He’d grown more and more dismayed at his time with them. Well, the dismay was mostly about Danny. Steven was still a dreamboat, despite his utter, inexplicable lack of taste in the romance department. He couldn’t stay mad at the guy, especially not when he found himself being handled more by Steven than Danny. Take right now. Steven leaned over and picked him up, gave him a small little shake before tweaking a thumb against his inverted nozzle. Oooooh, yes, please. Harder. More. _Steven_.

“But I bought this one for you.” Steve sounded wistful, adorable. “It’s different.”

Danny looked almost human then, as his eyes went all soft and dopey and the left corner of his mouth tipped up a smidgen. He gazed up (way up, the shorty) at Steven’s beautiful face, and times like this made it so difficult to hate Danny as viciously as he did.

“I bet you already have name suggestions, too, don’t you?” Danny tilted his big head to the side, scratched at his irritating perpetual five o’clock shadow with one of his thumbs. His eyes narrowed, ice blue. “Please tell me it’s not something obvious like Carmen Miranda.”

Steven beamed. Unicorns and puppies might have started romping around the room, for as happy as the guy looked. 

“I was actually thinking she looks like a Ginger.”

She? He tried not to take that personally, because Steven didn’t know any better. It was a common misconception based on how he looked on the outside and the general lack of education of the masses. He couldn’t help it. He’d been born pink and tattooed with pineapples. That didn’t make him less of a he, and one day people would accept that, the same way he was comfortable in his own splendid vinyl.

“Oh, that’s rich,” Danny said. “As in _Gilligan’s Island_? Jesus. No, not Ginger. Mary Ann was hotter anyway. This pink monstrosity looks nothing like either.”

Monstrosity? Oh, no he did not.

“You just think Mary Ann was hotter because she was your own height,” Steven said. 

Danny’s head snapped up even higher, eyes going from soft sappy to burning bright in a blink. He glared at Steven for a good long while, chewed at the corner of his mouth.

“Okay, fine. You want me to name it. I’ve got the perfect moniker for that, that thing.” Danny smiled fully then, but it was a smile of pure evil. Danny eyed him up and down, grabbed him from Steven’s warm hands. “I’m calling this one Pineapple Infested Hellhole.”

Then again, hate wasn’t so much of a challenge after all.

H50H50H50

François, François, François.

If he never heard that name uttered again, it would be too soon. He didn’t want to sound like Captain Bitterpants, but Danny talked about his dearly departed ass cushion as if he’d been the second coming. Any sympathy he’d managed for his predecessor’s unfortunate demise had long been erased. It had become clear early on that he was never going to measure up, though Pineapple Infested Hellhole knew he was a significant quality grade or even four above what was handed out for free (free!) from hospitals and clinics. The ungrateful little troll looked at him with scorn, even though he knew how well he protected that bubble butt, how damned comfortable he was.

Danny Williams was crass, rude, and disrespectful. It was all “François didn’t make that weird farting noise” and “François had more personality” and “François’s hole was bigger” with him, and that was beyond the pale as far as Pineapple Infested Hellhole was concerned. He was a damned fine Tushie Cushie™ and he did not appreciate being maligned (absence of praise for him and gushing for François was _absolutely_ criticism, ask anyone) on a daily basis. He didn’t deserve it. He didn’t deserve that odious little Danny. 

Pineapple Infested Hellhole (damn that man anyway, for in his heart of hearts his name was Kaila if it was anything) hated Danny with a fiery passion. If he wasn’t being suffocated by the man’s ample backside, thereby killing any shot he had at taking in The Wonder That Was Steven J. McGarrett, he was tossed in a corner like so much garbage. Frankly, he didn’t think Danny even needed him and he would resent that as well, but for one little thing:

Sitting unused on a chair, sofa, the floor or kitchen counter granted him an all access, front row seat at Steven-gazing. 

During those moments Danny threw him aside, his viewing pleasure was unimpeded by a maimed arse and he could hear the melodious tones of Steven’s voice unhindered by too many pounds of flesh for someone so diminutive and one muffled Jersey-accented voice. Pineapple Infested Hellhole lived for those moments, because more and more often he was left entirely alone all day while Steven and Danny trotted off to work. He knew Danny was doing it on purpose, because sometimes Saviour Steve would return to collect him. The difference between how Steven’s large, dexterous hands held him with care and adoration and how Danny’s stumpy fingers used and abused him told him everything he needed to know. Pineapple Infested Hellhole had been brought here for Steven, and Danny was just an unfortunate, highly annoying side effect. He really didn’t understand why Steven got such a kissyface expression every time he looked at the runt.

Though his practical use came less and less often, Pineapple Infested Hellhole made sure to “accidentally” poke his nozzle right into Danny’s stupid butt wound every chance he got, just to hear the guy in pain. Sue him, he was plastic and passive-aggressiveness was really the only way he could go.

H50H50H50

“It’s nothing personal,” Danny said one day. “It’s the fucking pineapples. I can’t stand the sight of you most of the time.”

 _Right back atcha, jerkface_ , Pineapple Infested Hellhole thought, _contrary to popular opinion, rainbows don’t shoot out of that overrated ass of yours and your hair continues to be the most ridiculous thing on the planet._

H50H50H50

As was so often the case, Pineapple Infested Hellhole had been left behind while Steven, looking all hot and competent in a bullet proof vest and thigh holster (holy shit, whoa), trotted off with Danny and the rest of his team. He hated Danny’s office almost as much as Danny himself, because, somehow, it was filled with the indefinable presence of Steven. It just wasn’t right, the way Danny had Steven under his spell in so many ways.

He knew the moment they all walked back in after several hours, shoulders slumped and faces bearing remarkably similar expressions of pain and regret, that something very bad had happened. Pineapple Infested Hellhole wished for hands and feet himself when he saw the knuckles on Steven’s hands were bruised and bleeding. He wanted to shove Danny aside to care for those injuries.

He wanted to kill Danny when the guy planted soft kisses on that bruised hand and murmured soft assurances to Steven, and he wanted to kill Steven for looking so sweet and grateful to Danny of all people. Being on this side of unrequited love sucked, as he more than suspected Steven had no idea that he existed.

H50H50H50

Oh, this wasn’t happening. It wasn’t.

He should have known, should have reasoned it by the way the pair of them clutched at each other’s hands and thighs all the way home and, Jesus, he wished Danny would have sat on him because he had not needed to see that broad, thick-fingered hand pawing at Steven’s crotch. Not then, and not now. For as often as he cursed Danny for tossing him on the couch while taking Steven elsewhere in the house, Pineapple Infested Hellhole longed for that to have happened. Instead, he was stuck at the foot of the bed. He tried to find a happy place and go there mentally, but with the show going on in front of him it was impossible. He tried to be happy that Danny was giving Steven what he needed (and what Pineapple Infested Hellhole could not). He tried to look away.

Nothing worked. He was forced to watch Steven kiss and hold Danny like the guy was his whole world. If that wasn’t bad enough, Steven smoothly worked at the buttons of Danny’s annoyingly well-fitted dress shirt and pulled it from his trousers, baring that grossly hairy chest and arms. Pineapple Infested Hellhole would have recoiled if he could. It figured Danny was a hirsute mini ogre. It fit his personality, that exaggerated swagger to make up for his stature, the loud mouth to assert domination when clearly he was a pipsqueak. Steven, Steven, Steven. He could do so much better.

Then Steven’s shirt came off and whoooooa. Okay, Pineapple Infested Hellhole realized the only way he was going to survive this was to focus on the positive. Fortunately for him, the positive here was much, much larger than the negative and was being extremely assertive, as only seemed natural and right. Steven was far superior in every regard, so he should be in the bedroom. Pineapple Infested Hellhole had found his happy place. He’d just pretend it was him getting hugged and stroked and stripped, not Danny. Oh, those hands. Those magnificent, magnificent hands were reaching for the buttons of his cargo pants.

Pineapple Infested Hellhole perhaps blacked out upon the sight of Steven naked. Unnngh. Glorious. 

Once Steven and Danny tumbled onto the bed, he couldn’t see the specifics and didn’t want to. He had an astounding view of Steven’s legs, butt and strong, strong back and became transfixed by the fluid movement of muscle. And the sounds. Oh holy hell, the sounds were amazing, could not be tarnished by Danny’s brashness. The low murmurs, the rustle of sheets, the wet sound of kissing. It went on forever, and not long enough. The sudden stillness startled him a bit, when the only sound in the room became an occasional panted breath and low hums of contentment.

“You sure?” Steve whispered at last.

Pineapple Infested Hellhole strained to see. Somehow or another, this had turned from horror show to porno flick and he was only a tiny bit ashamed of himself for being so turned on. Steven’s back was slick with sweat. Guh. He didn’t even mind so much when Danny’s hand came around at an awkward angle and he ran fingers through Steven’s sweaty hair.

“Please.” Danny sounded … wrecked and almost sweet. “My dick hurts more than my ass at the moment.”

Steven exhaled a short little laugh, then wrapped an arm around Danny, pulled the smaller man into an intimate hug, twisted his astoundingly fit body until he could kiss Danny. Even from where Pineapple Infested Hellhole lay, he saw it was beautiful and good, and while he still hated Danny without a doubt, he was also rather glad someone could make Steven so, so happy. Steven pressed forward and began undulating his hips, slow, lazy thrusts that were impossibly sensual.

Danny shifted ever so slightly under Steven, pulled his mouth free from the kiss to gasp, “Unh, oh.”

“Danny,” Steven said. “Danny, Danny.”

The pace quickened, but never became frenzied, and Pineapple Infested Hellhole watched as first Danny and then Steven cried out hoarsely and then went very still. They lay in a pile of intertwined limbs for a few moments, then Steven leaned in to press a kiss at Danny’s jaw, nudge Danny with his nose.

“Thank you,” Steven whispered.

Danny fumbled for Steven’s hand, brought it to his lips and kissed the bruised knuckles, for once saying the right thing – nothing.

Pineapple Infested Hellhole felt the air inside him warm just a little (not much) toward Danny and knew, then, what he had to do.

H50H50H50

After that night watching Steven and Danny together, it had been Pineapple Infested Hellhole’s goal to find a way to escape. It wasn’t that he wanted to leave, not really, but he couldn’t sit around and watch when the one he loved so obviously loved another. He didn’t want to end up stashed in a closet once Danny’s stupid butt was finally healed enough to never need him again. He couldn’t take the thought of never seeing Steven again, and on the flip side, loathed the idea of seeing Steven loving Danny. This was no longer the place for him, and he was going to be the bigger Tushie Cushie™ and take the high road.

The sun shone bright and cheery in the sky. Humidity levels left him feeling slightly short of air, but it was of no consequence. He could still make this work. Pineapple Infested Hellhole eyed the expanse of water in front of him. It was a stroke of luck, really, being brought out to the beach on a day where the conditions were perfect. In spite of the humidity, there was a strong breeze and Steven and Danny were, as always, preoccupied with each other. _They would never notice him_ , he thought bitterly, _Steven never had, not really, and Trolly Troll’s attentions had been mostly negative and totally unwelcome_.

“Come on in, D. The doctor said it was all right, didn’t he?” 

Steven, all wet and naked-chested and droolworthy out in the water, was going to be difficult to forget. Dear God, it should be illegal to be that perfect.

“You know I’m not one for swimming. I have my book,” Danny said, lifting some schlockfest paperback in the air from where he lay on his belly. “You should consider it a victory getting me on the beach at all.”

“I have it on good authority that the buoyancy provided by salt water makes … certain, ah, activities, and I think you know what I mean … both challenging and rewarding,” Steven shouted.

“Well, then.”

Danny chucked the book into the sand and scrambled to his feet, in the water not more than ten seconds later. Pineapple Infested Hellhole watched briefly as Steven pulled Danny deeper, their laughter bittersweet in his ears. With Danny no longer providing any kind of windscreen, the breeze would make this quick. After a moment, he felt himself shift across the sand. He drifted toward the shoreline, nonexistent heart racing. The water was warm against his plastic, washed away the grains of sand that clung in his creases and seams. 

As he floated into the deep blue sea, destined for different shores, he consciously abandoned thoughts of his unfortunate time spent with Danny and that ass of his. He released Steven with love. The ocean welcomed him and as he moved toward his new horizon, Kaila emerged and Pineapple Infested Hellhole was no more. 

He was not missed. By anyone.


End file.
